Small Comforts
by SoulsToKeep
Summary: Scott only drinks on special occasions, but when Ramona breaks up with him, Wallace can only do so much to help.


**Small Comforts**

It wasn't often that Wallace Wells woke up in the middle of the night.

He had been stirred awake by a thumping noise on the front door, followed by some clanging and a low moan. _Probably some stray cat, _he thought as his body snuggled deeper into the warmth of his blanket. _Even though I never heard of a cat moaning...maybe if it's like, sick?_ Wallace pondered this for only a few moments more before succumbing back to the softness of his pillow once more.

_Ah, fuck it. I'll check it out tomorrow when I leave for work...or I'll just tell Scott to do it. He'll be back by morning._

He shut his eyelids, a smirk growing on his face at the whiny pout Scott would most definitely put on once he gave the order. Scott turned up his nose at favors...or anything that involved a hint of responsibility outside of Sex-B-Bomb (his bass playing if you wanted to be more specific), and his love life.

A love life that involved a certain Ramona Flowers.

Wallace shifted a bit at the topic. He wouldn't deny that he had stuck by Scott during the whole evil exes situation and had even joined in the celebration afterward, so like the rest of the gang he had done his part pretty well. Heck he'd even been in enough of a good mood to throw a smile in Scott's direction that night while hundreds of red cups were raised as a toast to the giddy couple.

Still though. There was _still _that little if that plagued the back of his mind.

_What if Scott hadn't turned Gideon ass into a pile of coins and Ramona left?_

Wallace furrowed his brows at the question. _No. No..not this shit again. The dude is __**straight,**__ he's with Ramona, and their in love and all that crap. You can't change stuff like that, Wal._

_But there was that time when we first met-_

_Doesn't count. __**You**__ were hitting on __**him**__._

_And he hit on back! A little._

_It's called being friendly, so don't go making-_

That was when a vibration cut the notion from his mind altogether.

Wallace groaned. He rolled over to right a bit too far and bumped his head onto a corner of the dresser, **hard.** Though at least what happened next taught him that being wrapped in a blanket doesn't do much for clumsiness either.

"_Fuck_!"

The vibration sounded again, as if mocking his stupidity.

He lifted himself off the ground and dabbed the spot with his sleeve. The blood would stain for sure. However, there was another issue that had to be taken care of.

Wallace grabbed his cell phone off the dresser.

"Hello-OUCH!" He attempted to kick the blanket aside and ended up knocking his foot into the drawers.

_Wallace, 0. furniture, 2._

"You are like...a _gay_ _douche,_ you know that?" A familiar voice answered.

Wallace stopped nursing his big toe. "Scott? Is that you?"

"Yea. An-my ballsssssss are about to freeze off." Scott hiccuped. "Wh-Why didn't you open th-door?"

His voice was slurred and Wallace could hear him stumble for a moment.

"I thought it was a stray cat..." Wallace straightened. "Are you drunk, Scott?"

There was a long pause.

"Uh...hey? You there?" Wallace spoke a bit louder. He could hear someone breathing, but it was growing faint. "Scott?"

_THUMP!_

Wallace jumped, causing the phone to slip onto the floor. He let his feet guide him carefully across the room until his hand flipped the light switch and then found the shiny doorknob right below. The hinges creaked.

"Oh _God_."

It looked as though Scott had taken a rough shortcut home. His clothes were covered in snow and torn in several places. There were even little twigs in his hair.

_That's a nasty wound on his arm too-_

"Your bleeding!" The words were blurted out before Wallace could stop them.

_Well, there are worse ways to welcome someone home, I guess._

"S-so are you." Scott leaned on his arm and the two made there way near the couch, him collapsing in a heap and Wallace gently placing himself beside him.

Scott hiccuped into the fabric. "I hate...blue hair."

Wallace swallowed. _Ramona._

"No man..." Scott picked his head off and faced him. "I...hate _her_, you k-know? _Hic_. And I thought things had changed. I mean I fought _for_ her and stuff." He punched the side of the couch to emphasize his point. "Now the only fighting I do is _with_ her."

Wallace nodded. He'd witnessed some of the struggle over the past few months.

Scott rubbed his forehead. "It's all gone now. Like everything we had isn't there. We'll t-try to agree and then we start y-yelling... about dumb things...and she threw me out tonight..."

"_Then why put up with her_?"

Scott didn't answer this for a while. Every now and then Wallace would glance at him, then glance away to something else, then back at him. He wanted to speak... and didn't. The air around them seemed as thick as the silence.

Wallace finally broke the tension by clearing his throat. Scott looked up at him with wide eyes, snapping out of the revere.

"Fuck Ramona."

"I already did." Scott picked at the shoelace of his converse.

Wallace tried not to chuckle, "No. I meant like forget about her."

"I _can't_!"

"Why not? She's being a total bitch-"

Scott sprung up and grabbed his shoulders.

"What the-?" Wallace tried to shake him off. The alcohol may have affected Scott's speech a bit, but his strength was the same.

"**Don.'t. Say. That.**"

"What are you-?"

"Don't call R-ramona a bitch!" Scott released his shoulders with a shove. "_Hic._ She's pretty and awesome and we're in LOVE!"

He mimed a heart with his fingers.

"Pilgrim!" Now it was Wallace's turn to seize Scott, "I'm sorry buddy, but you need a wake up call. You and Ramona have been fighting and even threw you out tonight...it's over."

No words except "call" looked to have registered with Scott, because his eyes lit up and he was half-running, half-tripping, to get the cell phone Wallace had dropped off the floor.

"Yes, I'll-call, call her! Why didn't I think of it?" He plopped down on the floor, hands fumbling with the number-pad.

Wallace rubbed his face and moved toward him, "Scott, don't you have your own phone you could-"

"Shhh!" Scott glared at him and pressed the receiver to his ear.

Wallace rolled his eyes.

"Ramonaaaaa!" Scott said a few seconds later, his back on the floor. "I love you, and I know I…messed up or whatever-" He stopped, nodded. "Mmhm. I know but-" He wrinkled his forehead. "Yea he is..Now? But-" He mumbled. "Okay."

Wallace bent over Scott. "What's going on?"

He shrugged and slid the phone over to him. 'She wants to speak to you."

Wallace took the phone, cupping the speaker while doing so. "Um...I'm going to the bathroom to talk to her, okay?"

Not a word from Scott.

Biting his lip, Wallace stepped over him and crossed the few feet to the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

* * *

"...I'm not going to be able to see him when I'm there." Ramona continued, "And I really don't want to..."

Wallace leaned against the wall and listened without much interest at this point. It was a good thing that Ramona wasn't one for details...she liked to get straight to the point most of the time, but with Scott, things were dragged on a bit longer than usual. Wallace guessed it had something to do with the emotional part of their relationship.

"So what should I tell him?"

Ramona exhaled. "Just say that I want to do more with my life then just be somebody's cool girlfriend...and he'll grow up and do the same with his band or something like that."

Wallace let out a dry laugh. "Gee. Kind of harsh don't you think?"

"It's not something funny Wal, and it's not harsh either. Just honest," She said. "Besides. I'm sick of fighting. I'm sick of pretending I'm happy when I'm not."

Wallace titled his head against the tile on the wall, thinking. "So am I."

* * *

The first thing he saw when he left the bathroom was Scott, who rushed up to him as soon as the door creaked.

"Is it really over?" Scott's voice cracked. "Is she leaving?"

Wallace scanned his face. His eyes were bloodshot from what he guessed was now the lack of sleep, and his face had lost most of it's color.

_Would it be a health risk to tell you?_

Wallace stood there a little longer, going through his options, then pulled Scott into a tight hug.

"I'm so sorry, man."

Scott's body stiffened at the contact, then he slowly placed a hand in return on Wallace's back. "Um...thanks."

_FIN._


End file.
